


Genesis

by nhpw



Series: The Other Eighty-Five Percent [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: BDSM, Communication, Dom Misha Collins, Healthy Relationships, Jensen is a brat, Jensen is a novice, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Mental BDSM, Misha is experienced, Sorry Not Sorry, Sub Jensen, Voyeurism, author mansplains BDSM a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 14:43:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16451846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhpw/pseuds/nhpw
Summary: "The act of Domination and submission - power dynamics - as at least 85 percent mental. Don’t dismiss that."





	Genesis

**Author's Note:**

> When I started this, I didn’t know what it was, exactly. It started as individual one-shots that didn’t really go anywhere, and sat around eating up space on my Google Drive. It wasn’t anything new for me, really -- my reputation for writing BDSM proceeds me. But slowly I realized that they all had a common undercurrent that made them different from everything I’d ever written under that umbrella before: They were soft, and rated M at best. They contained kisses and soft touches and healthy communication, and very little - if any - sex. And yet they captured the Dom/sub relationship in a beautiful light, and that’s what I want to share with you now.
> 
> This will be a series of short stories all set in the same ‘verse, where Misha is an experienced Dominant who’s agreed to take Jensen as his submissive. It will be largely disconnected one-shots. The wives will be mentioned from time to time and may or may not come out to play; for now, this is just a relationship between the two of them, although (hopefully) context will let you know the ladies are aware of and on board with this dynamic that their husbands are establishing. 
> 
> Tags are accurate for what's currently posted; more will likely be added as the series progresses.

The first time isn’t anything like Jensen expects.

He’d thought about a lot of things - fantasized about being bent over and fucked with abandon, imagined those powerful thighs and perfect hips snapping forward to fill him entirely, to own him, to take his body apart. He’d jerked off to the idea of being splayed over Misha’s lap for a spanking after sassing off one too many times for the other man’s liking. He’d considered what it would be like to be on his knees for this man, to call him things like  _ Sir _ or  _ Master _ , and the very idea was enough to make him hard.

By the time they actually get  _ here _ , like  _ this _ , with the intention that yes, they are going to move forward, they are going to try, and Misha is going to  _ be his Dom _ \-- the very last thing Jensen expects during their first encounter is that, when they get to the point of making out where they would normally start stripping off each other’s clothes, Misha would  _ stop _ .

But he does.

He stops, and stands, erection clearly tenting the front of his lounge pants, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he raises his eyebrows, calm and collected as ever, and turns pointedly away from Jensen to walk from the couch where they’d been tangled up in each other to his recliner, where he sits, and leans forward, elbows on his knees and hands steepled to his lips, folded as if in prayer. To complete the pose, he leans forward to rest his chin on the folded hands. “Show me what you like,” he says with only a mild level of interest, and Jensen is so confused that he’s almost annoyed.

“What… what I like,” he parrots. It’s a question, but it’s not - more a statement of disbelief that  _ this  _ is what Misha - a goddamn motherfucking bona fide “Dom” or so he’s been told - is going to do.

“Yes,” Misha says, posture and expression unchanged. “Take out your erection and touch it. Show me how you like to be touched, what gets you off.”

And OK - maybe it would be a completely reasonable request if the two of them had never fooled around before, but it’s  _ Misha _ , who next to Danneel knows more about getting Jensen off than anybody on the planet. This is just absurd.

He says so.

Misha’s face takes on a bemused sort of look, one eyebrow quirked in what he’s heard fans refer to as the  _ Dom Brow _ \- and Jensen finds himself rolling his eyes at the reflection that, hey. At least that one eyebrow is on board with the plan. “Oh really?”

“Yes. Yes, really.”

“What did you think we were going to do today, Jensen?”

“I don’t  _ know _ ,” Jensen huffs, exasperated, as he shifts on the couch, trying to make himself more comfortable under Misha’s unwavering gaze. “I figured you’d, you know. Order me on my knees. Tell me to suck you off. Spank me. Fuck me and tell me I can’t get off. That sort of thing. Not… watch me jerk off.”

The mirthless chuckle that emanates from Misha sends a tingle down Jensen’s spine. “Oh Handsome, you have  _ no  _ idea…” There’s a silence, and then Misha’s posture shifts - he leans back into the chair and crosses his right leg over his left knee. “So you expected Domination to take a physical form.”

“ _ Yes _ .”

Misha’s silent for a long moment, considering him, and Jensen squirms under the scrutiny. Finally, Misha shifts again - uncrossing his legs and leaning forward over his thighs - and speaks. “I don’t really like to explain myself, but I’ll do it just this once, because this is important. The act of Domination and submission - power dynamics - as  _ at least _ 85 percent mental. Don’t dismiss that. If you can’t get into the mindset of following my orders to do something so simple as jerk off for me, then  _ how in the world _ can I trust you to fall in line when the stakes are higher?”

Jensen’s eyebrows shoot through the roof and he feels warmth spread up from his neck and across his face. “I…”

“When I give you an order, you always have a choice; you can choose to follow it, or… not. If not, you must be willing to accept the consequences. In this case, I’ve asked you to jerk off for me. You can say no, but that ends this encounter. We won’t do anything else today.”

Jensen pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as his face grows hot and he looks away from the piercing blue of Misha's eyes. He nods at his lap, then puffs out his cheeks and lets a slow rush of air flee his nostrils.

Then he looks back up to meet Misha's eyes again to find the man’s expression hasn't changed. 

So he opens his shorts and runs his palm over his flagging erection through the fabric of his boxer briefs. A glance at Misha and yep, his partner’s eyes are still pinned on him - piercing through him, in fact - and that's all Jensen needs to get back to full hardness. He hisses and closes his eyes before pulling his erection out through the opening, not bothering to shuck the garment altogether.  _ After all, _ he reflects,  _ Mish wants to see how I jerk off? Fine, but I don't usually get bare-assed for that. _

He works up a good rhythm - firm, but not too fast, because even though he still finds this a bit preposterous, he wants to make it a good show - and after a minute, his eyes slide closed and he finds his natural grip and pace.

Another minute, and he forgets he has an audience.

He has a spank bank - because  _ obviously _ \- but sometimes he doesn't need it, and this is one of those times. He can smell Misha, see him in his mind’s eye, fucking  _ feel _ Misha wrapped around him like some kind of perpetually horny security blanket, and as his right hand speeds up, his left tightens around the lower left leg of his underwear, and his rhythm stutters, and then he’s coming over his fist.

There's the moment of elation that usually follows an orgasm, and then in an instant his face flushes and his eyes dart it Misha and he swallows around his nervousness. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Misha's posture hasn't changed, but his lips are turned up into a smile, and his eyes are sparkling.

“Was-- was that, um.” Satisfactory? Hot? Acceptable? Jensen isn't sure how to finish that sentence, so he doesn't.

Misha stands and crosses back to the couch. He removes his own t-shirt to clean Jensen before tucking him away and giving him a soft, slow kiss on the mouth.

“Yes,” he says, nuzzling his nose against Jensen's, “It was.”

***

The second time is much the same as the first, except that Jensen manages to limit his protest to an eye roll.

The third time is again the same, without a modicum of protest. And by the fourth and fifth times, Jensen is expecting it, and when Misha pulls out of the kiss, Jensen is immediately opening his shorts and slipping into this performance which has somehow just become a  _ thing  _ that he does for Misha, because Misha is in charge and Misha asked for it.

That fifth time ends differently, though.

The fifth time that Jensen jerks off for Misha, when he's finished, Misha joins him on the couch, cleans him up, and pulls him into strong arms. “Good boy,” he coos, and Jensen feels his heart soar at the praise. “Very good.” And then they're making out again, which isn't how their scenes have gone thus far. Usually, Misha would hold him without making a move, and they’d talk about nothing and everything, until they ran out of words and Jensen nearly fell asleep. Then Misha would kiss him gently and stand to leave.

Not once in the past four scenes had Misha gotten off, or really even touched his obvious erection, in Jensen’s presence.

This time, he’s pressing against Jensen’s hip as they kiss, and Jensen smiles because finally,  _ finally  _ this is going somewhere.

“Mmmm,” Misha says, and pulls back, a gentle smile on his lips. “You’re so good for me.”

Jensen accepts the praise but can’t help a bit of brow furrowing at it. “But… I haven’t…”

“You have. You let me in.” Misha taps Jensen’s temple with his index finger. “You gave yourself over to me, to my wishes, simple as they were. And you showed me so much more about yourself than you know. I can’t  _ wait  _ to put that to good use.”

“H-- How…?”

“For starters, the face you make  _ right _ before you hit the point of no return - it’s unique. I’ve never seen you make that expression any other time. If I stop you right there, and I  _ keep  _ stopping you right there, how long do you think I can hold you on edge? How many hours?” Jensen groans and screws his eyes shut as a shiver runs through him, unbidden. But Misha isn’t done. “You hold your breath,” he says, bringing his hand up to caress the column of Jensen’s throat with a gentle thumb. “A  _ lot _ . Makes me wonder how you’d respond to breath play. I bet you’d love it. And perhaps most importantly, you’ve shown me what you need for aftercare.” He leans in to kiss Jensen’s brow. “Plus it was damn sexy.”

Jensen hums contentedly as Misha continues to touch his face and kiss his cheeks. When the attention stops, he opens his eyes to meet an intense blue rim surrounding blown pupils. “Do you have any issues with the kinks I just mentioned? Edging, breath play…?”

It takes the shift to a serious tone a minute to settle into Jensen’s mind, and then he clears his throat and says, “Sounds awesome, Mish.”

“Mmmm… glad you think so.” Their lips meet again, long and heated, and Jensen lets Misha’s tongue slide into his mouth to take control of the kiss-- which Misha cuts short long before Jensen is ready for it to be over. He whines into the space between their faces when Misha pulls back. “Patience,” Misha breathes. “Is a virtue I consider essential in a submissive. I offer it, and I expect it in return.”

He hears what Misha’s saying, and it makes sense, really it does, but they haven’t had sex in a month - not any kind of sex, at all, and Misha’s barely touching him outside of these scenes. He hadn’t realized it until this moment, but he’s absolutely  _ aching  _ to feel Misha’s hands on him, to have those fingers open him up, to wrap his lips around the hard length he feels pressed against his hip,  _ anything  _ to satisfy him, because he hadn’t been allowed to for so long. And he’s  _ been  _ patient, really he has, and.

“You’re pouting.”

Busted.

“I am not.”

“Don’t lie to me. You're not very good at it.”

He huffs and throws up his hands. “I can’t hide anything from you, huh?”

“You cannot, and you should not,” comes the reply. “What’s wrong?”

“I want…” He looks away. For the first time, a tiny little doubtlet is buzzing about his cerebral cortex like a fly.  _ You’re gonna be on your knees begging for that cock if he doesn’t give it to you soon, aren’t you? _ A voice in the back of his head taunts, and he feels his entire body blush.

“Jensen?”

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and bites so hard he tastes blood. There are tears in his eyes and he doesn’t really understand how they got there. And then there’s a hand on his shoulder and he turns toward Misha and it’s out of his mouth in a rush:  _ “Why won’t you let me touch you? _ I want to touch you, Mish, I miss touching you, I need you,  _ please… _ ”

Misha sighs and wraps Jensen into his arms without comment, and Jensen questions every single tear he lets fall.  _ Why is this such a big deal? _

He’s not sure how much time passes, but when he’s quiet and still and his breath is coming in regular intervals, he feels the weight of Misha’s hand on his head, fingers lightly kneading his scalp. It feels safe, like home, and he wonders what the fuck just happened.    


“You are…” Misha sighs and hugs Jensen tighter. “You are amazing, did you know that?”

“Mmm.”

“I’m so lucky to have this opportunity with you, and I’m beyond excited to do some really awesome… really,  _ really  _ filthy things with you.” Jensen lifts his face at that, and he can’t help smiling at the earnesty in Misha’s eyes. “It’ll be fun, and exciting, and nothing --  _ nothing _ \-- excites me more than the idea of taking you apart piece by piece by piece… and bringing you to heights of pleasure that you’ve never even dreamed of.”

“Mish… please…”

“Soon, Handsome. The next time we meet, I promise I’ll be touching you, and you’ll be touching me. And I promise incrementally increasing intensity from there on out.”

“You really promise?”

“Would you like me to pinky swear it?”

Jensen laughs at that, a genuine laugh, which makes Misha smile in turn. “No. No, I trust you.”

“Good. So until next Tuesday…” Misha lightly taps at Jensen’s dick, which is twitching with renewed interest at Misha’s sultry voice. “No touching.”

“I-- what?”

Just like that, Misha’s got him pinned on the spot with a level gaze and one no-nonsense brow raised. “No touching. No masturbating. No jerking off. You may not pleasure yourself and you may not get off again until next Tuesday. I’ll tell Dee that too, if I have to. This is  _ mine  _ now, and at the moment, you don’t have permission to play with it.”

“Oh, come on--”

He’s cut off by a hardened glare and the feel of Misha getting to his feet. When he attempts to stand, too, Misha shakes his head, and Jensen finds himself pinned to the couch by a Look.

It’s his first real look at “Dom Misha,” and it’s hot as fuck.

When a solid 30 seconds pass where Misha says nothing, Jensen squirms in his seat under the scrutiny. “Sorry,” he mutters at last, and Misha nods.

“You should be. I was debating whether or not I ought to punish you, honestly, but we’re not quite there yet. I need one more thing from you.” He turns and reaches into the drawer of the end table at the far end of the couch, returning to Jensen with a sheaf of papers. 

Jensen accepts it as he stands. “Contract?”

“No. I don’t do contracts with people I’m already sleeping with.” Misha quirks the corner of his mouth and winks. “It’s a checklist. Obviously I picked up on a couple of your kinks, but I’d like to know what else you’re interested in doing during our scenes. I’ll do one too. When we meet next Tuesday, we’ll sit down and talk about it.”

“But you said--”

“And after we talk, if you’re very good, we’ll play. OK?”

“Yeah, OK.”

“And remember, Jensen. No touching.”

“Yes Sir.” It comes off heavily sarcastic, with a mock salute that he aborts halfway through as he catches Misha's eye and realizes what he's done.

_ Shit _ . 


End file.
